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Authors: Kaitlyn Dunnett

Scotched (12 page)

BOOK: Scotched
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“Too much exposure to murder mysteries can rot the brain,” Dan muttered. “There was nothing at the scene to suggest foul play, was there?”
“Not that I saw,” Sherri said, “and I did take a look around. I didn't notice anything particularly suspicious.” She cracked a wry smile. “Same old Lover's Leap—but at least kids today use condoms.”
“That's all you found?” Liss asked.
“Pretty much.” She thought back while she munched on her hot dog. “Tissues. A couple of gum wrappers. That's—” At Liss's sudden increase in interest, she broke off. “What?”
“It's probably nothing. But one of the people at the conference, the guest of honor's manager, is a gum chewer. And a litterer. And he's one of those Jane Nedlinger talked to last night. I wasn't close enough to overhear what she said to him, but it looked to me as if she was trying to scare him. Succeeding, too.”
As much as Sherri longed to dismiss Liss's information as irrelevant, she had to wonder if she'd missed something at the scene. If she'd known at the time who it was at the bottom of the cliff, she might have done things a little differently. Even without being aware of the MSBA meeting, or that other people had felt threatened by the woman, her own experience alone would have been enough to make her wonder if Jane Nedlinger's sudden death wasn't just a bit too fortuitous. The more she recalled of her own initial reaction to Jane, the less difficult it became to think that someone could cheerfully have murdered her.
“Gum wrappers?” Dan made a derisive sound. “Like that would hold up in court.”
“Maybe Jane was blackmailing Bill Stotz—that's his name. And when he went out there to Lover's Leap, to pay her, they quarreled and he pushed her off the cliff instead.”
“Jeff is satisfied it was an accident,” Dan said.
“You talked to him?” Temper sparked in Liss's eyes. “You didn't tell me that.”
They glared at each other.
Shaking her head, Sherri polished off the second hot dog before she spoke. “You're giving me a lot of speculation and not a shred of proof.”
“There's just something
off
about all of this,” Liss insisted.
“The M.E. doesn't think so,” Sherri said.
At least she didn't believe that he did. She hadn't stuck around once George Henderson had declared the death an accident. Had he changed his assessment on a closer examination of the body? There was only one way to find out. She reached for the phone.
Sherri had gotten to know George fairly well over the last year. She'd first encountered him when she was going through the state's Criminal Justice Academy. He'd been one of their guest lecturers. They'd talked one day over lunch and discovered that they were actually distantly related on her father's side of the family, and that George lived less than a mile from the trailer she and Adam had shared with her mother until her marriage to Pete. Of course, George's residence was considerably more posh.
“Hi, George,” she said when he answered. “It's Sherri Campbell. I hope I'm not taking you away from your supper, but I'm calling about that accidental death this morning.”
“How's that boy of yours?” George interrupted.
“He's doing better. Thanks for asking. Listen, George, this is just me being curious, since Jeff took over for me up at Lover's Leap, but I was wondering if everything checked out on the victim. It was the fall that killed her, right?”
“Sure did,” he said cheerfully.
“And she
was
already dead when that jogger found her?”
“Oh, yeah. Been dead a couple of hours by then.”
Sherri's hand clenched on the phone. “A couple of
hours
?” she repeated. “Are you sure?”
“Well, you know time of death is never exact, but yeah. My best guess is that she died between midnight and four in the morning.”
“Uh, George—I think you'd better give the attorney general's office a call.”
“Why? She was out jogging. She stopped to look at the view. She ... oh, crap! It was overcast last night.”
“Yeah. No view.”
A few minutes later, she hung up and turned to face the two civilians who'd been hanging on her every word. “The M.E. says she didn't die shortly after five o'clock sunrise, as we assumed. He estimates time of death at between midnight and four. He can't be more exact than that, but it makes it highly unlikely that she was out jogging, tried to get a better look at the view, and fell.”
Dan frowned. “Why on earth would she—”
“Go out there at night?” Liss finished for him. “Not to make out with a boyfriend. That's for sure. Personally, I like my blackmail theory.” She turned to Sherri. “So, now what?”
“Now the M.E. reports his findings and things get official. I'm out of it. Permanently out of it if they decide I messed up the scene of the crime.”
“It's hardly your fault that it didn't look like murder.” Liss rose from the table to give her a hug.
“But if I'd stuck around to find out who was dead, I might have asked more questions at the time.”
“Why didn't you?” Dan asked.
Sherri managed another small smile. “Jeff told me to go home and take care of my kid.”
“Bingo. You're off the hook.”
Sherri wasn't so sure about that, but she appreciated the thought. “Be that as it may, you two mustn't get any more involved in my mess. You both know who will be sent to investigate.” It would be Gordon Tandy, who had once been Dan's rival for Liss's affections.
Dan grimaced.
Liss sighed. Then she pulled herself together, glanced at her watch, and gave Sherri another hug. “I've got to get back to the hotel. The charity auction will be starting at seven, and I promised Aunt Margaret I'd meet her there.”
“Go,” Sherri told her. “But try to stay out of trouble.”
 
Dan dropped Liss off at the hotel as a crowd started to gather for the auction. Since he didn't have to work, he wasn't sticking around. He was still annoyed with her, she supposed, for putting the kibosh on his plans for a romantic evening. They'd gulped down leftovers reheated in haste and washed the two-day-old pasta dish down with bottled water they'd guzzled on the way back to the hotel. She would definitely have to find a way to make things up to him.
She'd start, she decided, by keeping out of Gordon Tandy's way when he showed up to investigate Jane Nedlinger's death. She'd done her bit by voicing her suspicions to Sherri. Truthfully, she'd been hoping she was wrong. The last thing anyone needed was another murder in Moosetookalook.
Determined to focus on fictional crime for the rest of the evening, to be just another fan attending the First Annual Maine-ly Cozy Con, Liss entered the hotel ballroom. She was pleased to see that the event had drawn so many people. The place was packed, not only with conference attendees, but also with members of the community. Betsy Twining was there with her husband. So were Dolores and Moose Mayfield. Liss spotted Doug, too, and wondered why the funeral director hadn't brought his wife along. Lorelei Preston was always complaining that there wasn't enough to do in Moosetookalook in the evenings.
A woman jostled Liss, belatedly making her aware that she was blocking the entrance.
“That guy's got some nerve,” the woman said to her companion. “He wouldn't let me give Yvonne a book to sign. He said I should bring it to one of the signings she's got scheduled and not just go thrusting it at her willy-nilly.”
“Who is he, anyway? Her husband?”
“Nah. He's her manager. Anyway, then Yvonne herself steps in and she's just as nice and polite as he was rude. She signed the book with a sweet little personal note. I'll show it to you later.”
The two women moved out of range of Liss's hearing, leaving her to wonder why Bill Stotz was so protective of his client. She told herself that, like so many other things, it was none of her business, but she couldn't help but notice that neither Yvonne nor Bill was in the audience gathered for the auction.
Stu Burroughs barreled into the room, apparently running late, and headed straight for the podium. Liss was about to pick up a bidding paddle and find a seat when Margaret appeared at her elbow.
“Have you seen Nola anywhere?” she asked.
“She was in her room earlier.”
“I've already checked there.” Margaret looked worried. “I even used my passkey to make sure she wasn't just asleep or something. Do me a favor and take a look around the rest of the hotel? I know she wanted to be here. One of the auction items is a free registration for next year's Cozy Con, and she planned to make a pitch for people to register for it before they leave this year's conference. She's offering an early-bird rate.”
“I'll see if I can find her,” Liss promised, although she didn't intend to look very hard. She had her eye on a hand-crocheted throw decorated with cats. It was the sixth item on the list of auction items and she didn't want to miss her chance to bid on it.
She went back down to the lobby and asked at the check-in desk, peeked into the lounge and the hotel library, and then waylaid Fran Pertwee, who was just closing up the gift shop.
“Working kind of late, aren't you?” she asked the other woman.
“I had inventory to check.”
“Were you open while you were doing it?”
“Sure. I figured I might as well be, since I was there. Did you need something?”
“Someone. Do you know Nola Ventress?”
“The woman who organized the conference? Sure. She's been in a couple of times. Including this evening.”
“I'm been trying to locate her. When was it that you saw her?”
Fran checked her watch. “About an hour ago. She came in and bought one of those dried flower arrangements we started carrying a month or so back.”
“She bought
flowers
?” Liss's first thought was that Nola intended to put them in the auction, although she couldn't think of a good reason why she would. “Did you see which way she went when she left?”
“Outside, I think,” Fran said. “She had a sweater with her, and she stopped to put it on before she left the gift shop.”
After thanking Fran, Liss went back across the lobby and out of the hotel. Sunset wasn't until around eight o'clock at this time of year, and several hotel guests were still ensconced in the omnipresent Adirondack chairs, enjoying the evening breeze. Liss had no trouble finding one who remembered seeing a woman carrying flowers. According to him, Nola had crossed a swath of green lawn, heading in the direction of the break in the tree line—the start of the cliff path.
She'd taken the flower arrangement up to Lover's Leap.
The idea struck Liss as a very odd thing for Nola to do, especially when she recalled Nola's remarks about her dislike of wooded areas. It wasn't as if she and Jane had been friends. Then again, people had been known to set up impromptu memorials at accident sites. It was common in rural Maine to see a cross or a mound of flowers at the side of a road, marking the spot where a car had crashed, killing those inside.
At least Liss now knew where she'd find Nola. She considered going back inside. Surely it wouldn't take Nola long to complete her mission. She'd certainly return before sunset, since she'd claimed to have such a phobia about “the great outdoors” after dark. On the other hand, if what Sherri had heard from the medical examiner was right, Lover's Leap was now a crime scene. Liss was a little surprised that the state police hadn't yet shown up to cordon off the area.
That meant Nola might inadvertently disturb evidence.
Liss set off across the lawn, thinking that perhaps she could catch up with Nola before the other woman reached the clearing by the cliff. If she wasn't in time to warn her off, then she could at least get Nola away from the scene before she got herself into trouble with the authorities.
Liss suspected that there was a flaw in her logic, but she did not stop to examine it.
The path was easy to find. It had been groomed to remove hazards to walkers, runners, and joggers. At first she was able to move along it at a good clip, but she slowed her pace when the trail abruptly narrowed and began to wind and twist through thick woods. With twilight coming on, the shadows of the trees gave her the creeps, especially once she passed off hotel property and into the public park owned by the town. What on earth had Nola been thinking to come out this way so close to dusk?
A small wooden sign told Liss when she was halfway to her goal:
SCENIC VIEW 1/4 MILE AHEAD
. Once again, she considered turning back. Then she shrugged and continued. Since she'd come this far, she might as well go all the way.
BOOK: Scotched
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